


The Common Cold

by gypsydancergirl (hauntedlittledoll)



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Common Cold, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-14 09:15:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedlittledoll/pseuds/gypsydancergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was this thing called dignity that Tim had heard good stuff about—he would like to try it sometime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Common Cold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [incogneat-oh](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=incogneat-oh).



> Written for incogneat-oh's prompt: "I wanna read the fic in which Bruce is so worried for Tim’s safety, and/or convinced he’s dead, that, on finding out he’s okay, he drags Tim into a stupid big bear hug. And then awkwardness."

“Ah-ah-choo!”

“It’s a cold,” Dick decided, trying to check for a fever.

“Is not.” Tim fended off his older brother with a skill that can only be learned at the knee of the very best assassins. “It’s allergies.”

“It’s February,” Dick protested.

“That doesn’t actually preclude the possibility of being allergic to one’s surroundings,” Tim countered, sneezing hard and using the distraction to overpower Dick in a bid to enter the cave. He nearly ran over Damian in the process.

“Tt—you better not be allergic to Titus, Drake.”

Tim blew his nose and threw the wadded up tissue at Damian’s retreating back. “It’s not the dog, I’m allergic to,” he grumbled at Dick, who persisted in following him inside.

Dick got close enough to slap a hand over Tim’s forehead, and proclaimed his diagnosis once more. Tim sneezed again—hard enough to dislodge the older vigilante and gain ground across the cave.

“It’s just allergies,” Tim repeated, “and fresh air will probably clear it right up.”

“Or put you flat on your back with a nasty case of pneumonia. Colds always turn into pneumonia,” Dick declared with affected-wisdom.

Tim rolled his eyes, turning to lecture Dick. “Pneumonia is caused by bacteria, and a cold is a virus. They are two completely different things, Dick. And this … is not … a … ah-ah-choo!”

Tim had spun away from his brother automatically, and under normal circumstances this would be completely fine—preferable even. Normal circumstances don’t allow for your mentor swiveling in his chair to enter the argument with the worst timing in history.

Bruce blinked up at him twice, and then pulled the cowl off his head. Tim gaped at him in shock and horror. “It’s a cold,” Bruce decided, discarding the contaminated fabric. “Take the night off, and go to bed, Tim.”

“I sneezed on you,” Tim muttered disjointedly, still staring. He’s short-circuited. “I sneezed on the _cowl_.”

“The cowl is washable, Tim,” Bruce allowed, leveraging himself out of the seat. “Technically, _I_ am washable if it comes down to it … Tim?”

Tim was waiting frantically for a rewind of the last two minutes, and barring that some kind of system restore … why was he using computer analogies at a time like this? More importantly, why didn’t real life have a ‘restart’ button?

Bruce appeared to have given up on Tim regaining some semblance of function, because there was an arm hooked around him firmly as Tim’s feet left the ground. And no, Tim was not a toddler. His belated twist didn’t accomplish much; Bruce simply accommodated it by lifting Tim bridal style.

There was this thing called dignity that Tim had heard good stuff about—he would like to try it sometime.

“A cold can compromise your immune system allowing infection to develop into pneumonia,” Bruce lectured to his trapped audience, Dick nodding like a sage bobble-head in the background. All ground gained was lost as the cave retreated over the Batman’s shoulder. “A cold will clear up in a matter of days, but pneumonia takes considerably longer recovery time.”

“It’s not a cold,” Tim muttered, swiping at his nose with the sleeve of his sweater. It’s one of Dick’s, so that’s alright. This is all Dick’s fault.

Tim really did have allergies.

_Really._


End file.
